


I'm late for an interview I don't even want

by Stormendale



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur tries to "rescue" Merlin and gets clocked in the smeller, M/M, Minor Violence, Pre-Relationship, it's cute, they aren't actually together, they should be though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 01:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14944775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormendale/pseuds/Stormendale
Summary: The day before an interview for an internship, Arthur tries to be a hero and save Merlin from being mugged. The universe really doesn't want him getting this internship.





	I'm late for an interview I don't even want

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on a whim and ended up liking it, so decided to share! Enjoy.

The wind was cold enough to make Arthur walk faster as he headed home. His steps made small splashes on the wet concrete of the sidewalk. As he was about to pass a Seven Eleven, another sound drowned out his steps.

“Help!” He heard the call but didn’t know where from. His eyes darted around, and finally, he could see two figures in the alley beside the gas station. One was shoved face first against the wall, struggling against the other. Arthur’s fists were balled, teeth clenching. He couldn’t afford to get in a fight.

“Hey!” Arthur yelled, authority clear in his voice. He ran over to them. He should have walked away. “Back off.”

“He has a knife!”

Before Arthur knew what was happening, the attacker hit him squarely in the face. There was an intense spike of pain, spots blurring his vision.

____________

“Arthur, are you okay?” He wakes to find himself lying on the ground next to a seven eleven with a pretty boy worrying over him. He sits up slowly. He’s dizzy, but tries not to let on. He remembers what happened.

“I’m fine. How do you know my name?”

“We have a class together, but that really isn’t important. Your nose is bleeding quite badly. I’ll be right back.”

Arthur brought his hand up to his nose in confusion, wincing when he touched it. He tried to stand up but thought better of it when the world started to tip over and sat back down. The boy came back with some brown napkins. “Here. I’m Merlin, by the way.”

“Okay. What happened after I passed out?”

“Oh.” Merlin looked down at the ground. “He took my backpack and left. It’s fine though. He didn’t hurt me.”

“I feel like such an idiot.”

“He might have hurt me if you hadn’t come along. It was terrifying, actually. He shoved me up against the wall and was demanding that I give him my things, said he had a knife and he’d kill me.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re unharmed. I’m standing up now.” Arthur’s head was pounding, but he was determined to get up anyway. This time he managed not to fall.

“Wait, let me help you with your face. I insist.” His blue eyes pleaded.

“No. I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sure you can. You, whose last injury didn’t heal for far longer than it should have because you didn’t take care of it.”

“How do you know that?” Arthur snapped.

“We have classes together! I see you almost every day. You sprained your ankle last semester and it lasted twice as long as symptoms from a sprained ankle should. That’s all I’m saying.”

“And what are you, a doctor?”

“Just a concerned bystander.”

“There’s no need for concern. I’m fine. I’m leaving.” He turned around to go.

“Arthur…” Merlin sounded exasperated. He looked back at him. “You helped me. I only wish to pay back a debt.”

____________

 

“Ow!”

“Oh, pipe down. You big baby.”

Arthur had his eyes screwed shut as a bag of ice sat on his nose. “How long do I have to hold this here?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“Ugh.” Only a minute or two before, Arthur had lost his argument with Merlin about being able to care for his own injury. The man working in the gas station told them they could use all the ice they needed. Merlin had watched Arthur’s own embarrassed eyes as he untied the dorky red kerchief from around his neck. 

It was that kerchief, now filled with ice, bringing a small bit of relief to Arthur’s swollen nose.

“God, I have to go to a job interview tomorrow looking like this.” Arthur scowled.

“Don’t worry,” Merlin said. “It makes you look like a badass.”

Arthur chuckled but the expression only hurt his nose so he stopped. “I don’t think they’re looking for a badass for this one. I applied for an internship with the publisher of ESPN.”

“The sports channel?”

Arthur shook his head. “The magazine. I want to be an editor.”

“Sounds… boring.”

Arthur flashed him a long-suffering glare. “We’ll see how boring it is when I make more money than all my colleagues, now. Won’t we?”

____________

“God damn it!” Arthur yelled, and kicked the door of his ancient jalopy. The pole holding up the hood fell and the hood slammed shut loudly. “The one day when I needed you to do what a car fucking does!” 

It wouldn’t even start. Arthur knew jack shit about cars and even less about how to fix them.

“Well, I came to check up on you, but…”

Arthur whirled around. “You! You’re a bad luck charm. This is your fault.”

“Glad to hear you find me charming,” Merlin smirked.

“This is not funny. My interview is in twenty minutes and takes place twenty minutes away from here, by car. I’m screwed. Royally screwed. I give up.” He plunked down on the gravel driveway, defeated.

“Oh, get up, you dollop-head. We’ll take a cab instead. You give up too easily.”

“We?” Arthur stared at Merlin’s outstretched hand.

“Uh, you.” Merlin put his hands in his pockets. “ I guess I don’t really need to go. I do already have a cab, though. It’s how I got here. I don’t live in the dorms and it was too far to bike.”

“You should come, too. I think I’m panicking.” He walked with purpose toward the road where Merlin’s cab was waiting for him.

“Okay, then.”

____________

“I swear to god I am leaving the worst review on the website of this cab company.” Arthur seethed, arms crossed.

“I’m sure he’ll have it going in no time,” Merlin reassured. Arthur checked his watch. “If it’s any consolation, you look dashing in that suit.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “What about the bandages on my face, Merlin? Do I suit those too?”

Merlin laughed. “Yes, incredibly well.”

“I wish I could be as lighthearted all the time as you. Everything is riding on this for me. I’d embarrass my father by even showing up there like this. Maybe we should just go back.”

“What’s your father got to do with it?” Merlin asked.

Arthur considered telling him it was none of his business. “Well, in the eyes of a proud father, I suppose being a sports reporter is better than following some crackpot photography dream. Plus, the publisher is his golf buddy.”

“You dad is golf buddies with the publisher of a major sports magazine?” Merlin sounded awed.

“My dad is golf buddies with most important people. He’s good at shoving money in people’s pockets to gain connections. I don’t even like sports that much, Merlin. I fence a little, but it’s just a hobby, and ESPN doesn’t give a shit about fencing anyway. I want to be a photographer.” Arthur wanted to stop talking. Merlin had no reason to need to know all this. They were basically strangers.

Merlin put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder briefly, squeezing once. They shared eye contact for a few moments, and Arthur was glad he hadn’t said anything or tried to offer advice.

Lord knows he wouldn’t have taken it anyway.

It had started pouring rain outside at this point. “I’m still going to the interview. We may as well get another cab.”

“I’m with you, mate,” Merlin assured him.

____________

Half an hour late, panting from running upstairs, drenched from the rain, and with a soggy bandage over his broken nose, Arthur finally arrived at his interview.

“Sit down, won’t you?” The brown chair squeaked under his weight “What happened to your face, Mr. Pendragon?”

“Oh, please. Call Me Arthur. Mr. Pendragon is my father.”

“Okay, Arthur.”

Arthur quickly realized the man was waiting for an answer to his previous question. “I tried to save a guy from a mugging but got knocked out instead.”

He laughed a big hearty guffaw and slammed his hand on the table. “That kind of gumption is what I like to see from my reporters.”

“Um, excuse me, Sir, but… reporters?”

“Yes, Arthur?”

“Well, I thought I was applying to be an editor.”

“You’re gravely mistaken, then. This interview is about me considering you to be an intern for one of my reporters. Reporters write the articles, editors make them fit for publication. You have to work your way up to that.”

“Yes, sir.” Arthur set his gaze downward.

“Now, let’s get to the interview now, shall we?”

“Yes, sir.”

____________

“What do you mean you’re not taking it?!” Arthur had to hold his phone away from his ear lest his eardrum burst. His father was not taking the news well.

“Well,” Arthur hated how small and meek his voice sounded. He felt Merlin’s hand squeeze his shoulder and it gave him strength. “It’s just not what I want. It never was.”

The rest of the conversation was no easier, but eventually, it was over and Uther had accepted, or at least acknowledged, that Arthur was going to chase his own dreams and not those of his father’s. Arthur plopped his phone down on the desk and laid his head on his arms.

He and Merlin were in Arthur’s dorm room, Arthur sitting at the desk and Merlin leaning languidly against it, sipping a mug of tea. “He’ll come around.”

“I have to make this photography thing work. I have to prove him wrong.”

“You will,” Merlin reassured him.

“Thanks for the conviction, but you don’t know that.” 

After a few moments, Merlin was zoned out, staring across the room. Arthur picked up his camera, not sure why he had the urge to capture the moment. The shutter made a sound when he took the photo.

“Hey! Did you just take a photo of me?”

“Yes,” Arthur mumbled, opening the image. The light wasn’t on in the room, the only light source the setting sun coming in past the blinds. It lit Merlin up in stripes while he held onto his tea with both hands. His facial expression was deep and unreadable.

“Well, come on. Let me see it.” Merlin insisted, and Arthur realized he had been staring at the photo. He handed the camera to Merlin.

He smiled. “I kind of love it. Could you make me a print of this? I’ll pay you. My mum would love this.”

“Sure. I might actually make one for myself, too.”

Merlin grinned. “Are you going to frame it and put it on your mantle?” he teased. 

Arthur felt his ears heat up. “No, stupid, I meant for my portfolio. And I don’t even have a mantle, this is a dorm room.”

“Don’t even lie to yourself. You’re going to frame that photo of me.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. Maybe he would frame it. But only as a joke.


End file.
